Five Times the Team Defended Each Other
by Victoria LeRoux
Summary: ... and one time they didn't have to. Based on Red Tigress' prompt: An Avenger overhears a SHIELD agent say something bad about another team member and loses it. Part one: Clint and Steve
1. Clint and Steve

Five times the team defended each other... and one time they didn't have to.

Summary: from Red's prompt, An Avenger overhears a SHIELD agent say something bad about another team member and loses their shit.  
Warnings: Whump, very language heavy  
Characters: Whole Team  
Written: April 11, 2012 Yeah. It's old

A/N: As always, thank you to everyone who reviews what I write! I don't always get to reply, but I read and appreciate every comment. Thank you to TBB for looking at this back when I put it up on the forum eight months ago.

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Part One: Clint and Steve

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"I'm beginning to think these legends about Captain America are just a bunch of bullshit," the grumble from the other end of the hallway caught Clint's attention, and slowly the archer pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning against. The door to the infirmary lay behind him, firmly locked against his intrusion, but his worry and guilt was momentarily discarded in favor of listening to the conversation.

"I thought he was supposed to be fucking invincible," came the response after a moment's pause. "Doesn't look like it. Maybe he's slacking on purpose."

"Or maybe Banner tried to take him out. It wouldn't be the first time he fucked up," one of the men sneered before adding. "Rogerss just might not be that special. He's _ancient_ if he's the real thing. Maybe they just hired some guy off the street to wear his old costume."

A snort, then: "Banner's too busy chasing tail to take out Rogers. Rogers couldn't even get things right the first time, so it's probably all on him. You know he's not an impostor. No one could sound that stupid on purpose."

Clint narrowed his eyes as he moved forward, his hand instinctively going to his bow before he forced himself to remove his grip. The men were coming closer and he was beginning to bristle with indignation. This was his team they were talking about. This was his goddamned team that was in the fucking infirmary because of these guys, and now they had the nerve to just walk down the hallway and _insult_ them.

"This whole thing is a colossal fuck up. Maybe if the Captain spent less time worrying about that jackass Stark we could get something done."

The archer slowly unclenched his teeth and moved forward, his exhausted body readying itself for a fight as he saw the pair come through the doorway, snickering to themselves.

"Do you think he lies down and takes it – "

The archer stepped forward and both men startled as he slammed the speaker against the wall. The man went ghostly pale in just a moment, his eyes widening as he gasped for breath.

"So you think he should just save the world and your ass with it?" Clint growled at the man who did little more than gape at him. "I don't see you fighting alongside him."

"I'm – I'm… I'm just a normal guy and he's supposed to be a h-hero so-" Clint pressed down on the guy's windpipe, cutting off his speech.

"He's been fighting since he was a puny shrimp with asthma," the archer snapped, ignoring the man's companion who was trying to yank his arm free. Clint cast him a withering glare, kicked the guy to the ground, and planted one boot on his stomach. Clint's captive wasn't nearly so lucky - his face was beginning to tint a harsh, fiery red that was close to becoming purple. "You're a healthy male trained by SHIELD. Why don't I see you getting turned into a fucking pincushion in the name of pathetic lit–"

"Clint," the calm voice off to the side wasn't enough to break through the rage coursing through the marksman. He couldn't believe that this little fucker was casually badmouthing a man who would readily die for someone he didn't even know.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear that," Clint growled to the man. "You know what Rogers has done for your ungrateful ass? He's been shot, thrown out of his time, and now he's lying in an infirmary bed after being riddled full of holes and he still fights to save this world. You know why almost my entire team's in the infirmary? Because he was getting a piece of intel that stopped this goddamn building from being blasted into fucking pieces."

The man definitely looked like he was about to pass out, but Clint didn't care. Instead he just pressed his advantage, pouncing like a hyena on an already dead carcass.

"Get out of here," Clint snarled, "Get your ass out of here or -"

A hand pulled Clint away from the man and the archer whirled angrily, grimacing as he prepared to lash out at whoever had interrupted his growing tirade.

He blinked.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," he said gruffly.

"You know, I think that's the most words I've ever come out of your mouth at one time," Steve replied with a chuckle. Clint narrowed his eyes at the friend he had just been defending.

"Yeah? Just because I'm not like Stark doesn't mean that I don't know how to talk to people."

Steve wavered on his feet, and Clint jumped forward to catch him. The man was pale, sweating as he clutched his side with one hand.

"You shouldn't even be mov-" Clint began once again, but Steve interrupted.

"Barton?" Clint fell silent, sighing as the trembling man gingerly made his way back into the infirmary.

"What, Rogers?"

"Thanks."

"That still doesn't mean I like this team."

"Whatever you say."


	2. Steve and Tony

Let's see. Characters in this are Tony, Steve, Stupid Bureaucrat/Shifty Guy, and Stupider SHIELD agent.  
Chapter below, in which Steve does NOT lose his shit but gets scary calm instead.

Once again, written back in April. Obv. going to be different than my present style.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter!

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Steve smiled indulgently as the phone rang immediately after he stepped back into the SHIELD building.

"Where's my nachos?" Tony demanded the instant Steve picked up the phone. With a sigh, the Captain placed him on speaker and put the phone on top of the Tupperware he had tucked under one arm.

"I don't remember promising you nachos," the captain chuckled as he pressed the 'up' button on the elevator with his elbow. "I was too busy doing menial tasks like retrieving Ebola-containing bioweapons."

"Ugh, fine," Stark grunted. "But next time you better bring me nachos. They won't let me eat anything decent up here and they don't accept bribes. _Although,_ Clint was able to bring Natasha some pizza the other day so I was thinking-"

"She's just prettier than you," Steve replied absentminded as he tried to remain patient with the slow moving elevator. He paid no attention to the pair of whispering SHIELD agents in the corner, too busy trying to not tap his foot on the ground in annoyance.

"Scary hot, you mean. Both she and Barton have been grumpy lately – guy nearly took off my head when I asked what sort of 'just friends' they were," Stark continued to ramble. "I don't suppose you could bring _me_ some pizza, could you?"

"You had kidney surgery," Steve replied scornfully. "You're lucky I'm bringing you chicken."

"Chicken?" Tony's voice instantly perked up and Steve chuckled. The elevator doors slid open and one of the elevator's occupants slipped out. The captain hurriedly pressed the close button with his knee and tapped his foot impatiently as he waited.

"Yes, chicken. Nice and bland, just the way you like it."

"I knew I'd trained you well," Tony said, sounding smug. Steve rolled his eyes as he picked up the hint of gratitude in the man's voice.

"A 'thank you' is never amiss," he replied with an indulgent smile.

"So, how far away are you? Did you manage to get away from the grouchy puss yet?" At Tony's words, Steve hesitated in confusion. Tony must have picked up on that, because he added, "You know – Clint. He's more of a killjoy than Banner, some days. Guy needs to get laid."

"Barton's fine. I told him that Fury gave him the weekend off," Steve replied, trying to avoid staring at the other passengers in the elevator. It would probably be a wise decision to recommend that they lower Tony's pain medication. "I'll be up in a few minutes."

Tony whistled appreciatively. "I bet they designed the Patriot Act for people like you. I thought you were supposed to be the open, honest type. Now, how long before you get here? Natasha looks like she's going to kill me if we don't find a distraction."

"Five minutes."

"Make it three," Tony demanded and Steve made a noise of agreement. "If you make it three, I'll promote you to chief minion."

"Whatever you say, Tony," Steve murmured. He was a few floors away, but it seemed as if every single time they hit a new floor someone needed to get on or off.

"That's Master Stark to you," there was a click as Tony disconnected. The Captain maneuvered the box under his arm so he could try to disconnect the phone. It didn't work, but one of the SHIELD agents reached forward to help him slip it into his pocket.

"Thanks," Steve muttered, trying for a friendly smile. The agent just shrugged and retreated back to the corner, and the murmuring resumed.

Now that he had nothing more to distract himself with, he found that he was unconsciously tuning into their discussion.

"I can't believe he lets Stark talk to him that way," the agent who had helped him muttered. Steve raised his head, staring at the pair. One of them was in the typical SHIELD uniform, but the other was dressed more professionally and he had a clipboard in one arm.

"Is this common?" the bureaucrat asked, sounding both wary and curious.

"Oh, yeah, it's really common. Stark likes to pretend that just because he has money, he's able to order the rest of them around. He's a basketcase, always has needle marks in his arms and he's always in and out of the infirmary. I've had to run a mission with him and he's _terrible_. The second Rogers walked away, he changed the plan. Got three good men killed because of it, too. And I heard-"

Steve cleared his throat loudly, shifting his weight as he waited for the doors to open. He'd heard this type of talk before, had tried to defend his team against the general population of SHIELD, but it seemed like it did more harm than good these days. It only aggravated the tension and made it harder on his team, as much as it grated him to remain quiet.

The talking faltered for a moment, and then the whispering picked up again, only marginally softer.

"He refused to go on a mission the other day, did you hear? Said he couldn't deal with it and stormed out of the room. Most of the time he just sits around on his ass and-"

Steve cleared his throat again, but the whispering didn't falter this time.

"Agent, do you believe that Tony Stark possesses a negative influence on the team?" he heard the bureaucrat ask and the man didn't even have the decency to keep his voice low.

"Oh, def-"

"That's enough, Agent," Steve said, voice calm as he turned his eyes to the men in the corner. "Mr. Stark has shown himself to be a great asset to the team. I am far more confident in Director Fury's judgement than yours."

"Captain Rogers, are you able to comment on some of the points Agent Hand has brought to my attention?"

Steve sighed, realizing exactly what was going on here. The man clearly had Tony Stark's personnel file open on his clipboard and was jotting down notes in the margins. It was likely he was supposed to review the team conduct or was initiating some private investigation of his own.

"What exactly are you referring to?" Steve asked carefully.

"Poor team working skills, lack of discipline, inefficiency, his tendency to insubordination, and below average judgement skills, to start."

Steve moved his eyes to the smug-looking agent. It was like the man anticipated being _thanked_ for being a liar.

"Tony Stark is a civilian," Steve began, choosing his words carefully. "A civilian initially hired on as a consultant. He most certainly is not a soldier."

The agent's smug little smile grew.

"Which is why he is the bravest of us all," Steve continued. The man looked like he'd been slapped. "He hasn't been trained for warfare and nor is he indestructible. He's only involved because he was abducted in the middle of doing his duty. Almost all of us took this on as a duty after being trained to handle this, but he _volunteered_ to risk his life. He only disobeys orders when there's reason for it. Yes, he's disobeyed orders in the past and no, he shouldn't be penalized for it. He had good reason - bad intelligence, reacting to changing variables, manipulation..." Steve ticked off each point on his fingers.

Steve leaned against the door and let a slow smile spread across his face. The other two men were beginning to look edgy and trapped.

"He could have continued selling weapons that get people – _good_ people - killed. He could have sold his Iron Man suit for more money than you will make in your entire life. Probably half of what you see here was paid for with his money. But he _didn't._ He chose to take the longer road and fight. Without him, we wouldn't even be here. We'd be dead or scattered and we certainly wouldn't have stood a chance against Loki. Yes, he's childish and immature, but he's just as good as the rest of us." Steve paused and took a deep breath. His voice had begun to pitch at the end, and he shook his head. "He's just as an integral part of this team as Barton and Romanoff. He's just as important as myself and Agent Coulson."

The agent muttered something under his breath, and Steve narrowed his eyes before reaching across to tug at the man's nametag. "Pilot, right?" he asked casually. The man nodded in reply. "You realize Stark designed most of the equipment that gives you your job, don't you?"

Steve shrugged before continuing. "I guess it's simple to blame him for not always succeeding. He's saved hundreds of lives, why shouldn't he be able to save them all? Isn't what the press has been asking us these days?"

The bureaucrat winced and Steve gave him a smile that probably looked absolutely faked. "All it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. However, it takes more than just one good man to change things for the better," he added casually, before reaching across to tug the clipboard out from the bureaucrat's grasp. "I believe these belong to Agent Coulson. You're welcome to fill out a request if you like – I can give him a recommendation for you when I return them, if it's easier, Mr…"

There was no response so Steve simply shrugged. The elevator doors slid open and he slipped out, leaving the subdued pair behind.

The phone rang and Steve somehow managed to get a hand free to pick up. "Yeah, Stark?"

"It's been more than five minutes, so I was wondering if you stopped to pick up that pizza…"


End file.
